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Sunday, June 26, 2016

It's hard for me to write this letter. It's a reminder that you are actually gone. It's been so long since I've spoken to you when you were of sound and mind. I never imagined that I would be writing this letter to you. After all, it's not as if you can read it and respond.

I'm writing this letter because I used to write to you all the time when I was a child. You always responded and were so loving in your responses. I would tell you about school, my family, and my friends. It was always so nice to visit you. Visiting you was one of my best childhood memories.

It broke my heart to see you in October 2014. I wasn't prepared to see you deteriorating. You were losing your short term memory. You asked me several times when my baby was due and what the sex of the baby was. I responded gently that I was due November 24, and we wanted the sex of the baby to be a surprise. Each time you smiled and said, "that's so nice."

When we said goodbye you put your hands on my face and told me I was beautiful and said, "I still remember you". You had tears in your eyes. That was such a wonderful gift. I stood and hugged you for what seemed like a lifetime trying to remember all of the times you hugged me as a child.

I know that you're not suffering any longer. I guess my sadness stems from selfishness. Alzheimers Disease robbed you from us, and I hate that. I'm glad Jake got to meet you. He will be so lucky if he can remember you. He was only two, but I hope he remembers.

I'll miss you so much. I'm sorry I couldn't make it to your Memorial Service. I'm sure it was beautiful. I love you so much.